Page 67 of Counterpoint
Dominic ate his half of lunch in silence, peering out over Central Park. He cleared his throat, then sipped his wine. “I don’t know if I can explain what it means to be able to touch an instrument like that, to play it, to be connected to all that history.” He shook his head.
“You don’t have to explain.” Adrian turned from the stellar view of the city to take in an even better one—Dominic’s soft smile. “I saw what it meant when you played. What it means to you now.”
Dominic’s eyes were lovely and full of thanks. “I’m glad we’re here.”
So was he. Adrian was so very grateful he was standing on the roof of the Met and that Dominic Bradley was in his life.
* * *
For Dom, one of the best parts about Sunday was when Adrian cooked breakfast. Anything Dom asked for. Waffles. Pancakes. Bacon. Today, he’d asked for an omelet and Adrian had crafted this brilliant one of onions, bacon, tomatoes, and some very sharp cheddar.
Perfect. Utterly. And the look on Adrian’s face when Dom groaned at the taste only made the moment better. When he could talk without a full mouth, he spoke. “You kinda get off on cooking and feeding me, don’t you?”
Adrian’s grin was lopsided and matched his messy hair. He wore a pair of shorts low on his hips and nothing else. “I enjoy taking care of you inmanyways.”
Including holding him down and fucking him until he couldn’t think. Dom squirmed on the breakfast bar stool. “I wish there was something I could give back to you.”
Adrian stilled, and Dom got the distinct impression that he almost said something before a tight smile returned. “You give me enough.”
“What? What were you going to say?”
A touch of color on those cheeks. “Not something I should ask for.”
That baffled Dom. Because honestly, he couldn’t think of anything Adrian could ask for that he wouldn’t give. Well, maybe not a gangbang or something like that. But he didn’t think that was Adrian’s thing anyway. “Tell me. I mean, if I’m not willing, I’ll let you know.”
Adrian turned away to grab the pan off the stove and take it to the sink. The lines of his body were sharp and tense. “Hearing you play that old guitar yesterday was amazing. I’d very much like to hear you play again.” He turned, and there was sadness in his eyes. “But I know it’s off the table.”
God, the conflict in Dom’s head and heart hurt. He wanted to share that with Adrian, but the moment he outed Domino, what he had with Adrian might end. Or Domino would. He let out a breath.
Adrian’s shoulders dropped, and sorrow moved from his eyes to his smile. “That’s why I didn’t want to ask.”
Dom pressed a hand to his chest. He hated when his heart beat like this, flopping and hard. It made his lungs tight and his mind race. Fucking hell. Maybe, maybe there was a way to play for Adrian without bringing in Domino. After all, he had played at the Met. “We can get my acoustic.” He managed to push the words out.
A play of emotions crossed Adrian’s face before settling into concern. “Are you sure, Dominic? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
It wasn’t Adrian doing that, it was Dom’s own life. The voice that told him Adrian could never love a rocker like Domino. But acoustic and classical pieces, he could play those. Tension drained from his back and the voice quieted. “Yeah. We just have to go to my place to get it.”
A soft smile replaced the frown. “Thank you.”
They finished breakfast, and though they were both quiet, it was still warm and tender. Adrian skimmed fingers over Dom’s bare back, and pressed a kiss to his shoulder before grabbing their dishes.
They showered and dressed and headed out into the overcast day. Warm and humid, one of those sticky summer days when you hoped it would rain. Nearly matched Dom’s mood. He caught Adrian’s hand in his. “My place isn’t as nice as yours on the inside. It’s still kind of sterile. Would you mind if we came back here after I grab my guitar?”
“Not at all,” Adrian murmured.
Dom led them toward his place, down streets and through Prospect Park. He really didn’t think of the brick town house ashomethat much. Was his on paper, but not really in his soul. Classic on the outside. Modern inside. Kind of the opposite of Dom, really.
Throughout the walk, Dom knew Adrian had questions. Wanted answers. He watched those eyes and that face and the restraint.
He fucking didn’t deserve this man. At all. He never wanted to let him go.
When they made it to his place, Adrian tilted his head. “Shall I wait here?”
Dom nodded, his throat tight. Adrian knew where he lived now. But inviting him inside would expose too much of Domino. “Do you mind? It’s kind of a disaster inside. I haven’t picked up recently.” Not entirely the truth, but not really a lie, either. There was so much of his rock-star life scattered around the house at the moment, anyone stepping inside would know instantly who Dom was.
There was that sad smile again. But Adrian drew him in and kissed him on the forehead. “Go. I’ll wait here.”
Dom went, heart in his throat. Up the steps, into his house and to the living room, where he kept his favorite acoustic guitar. He slipped it into its case, and was back out the door as fast as he could manage, heart slamming in his chest. He could do this. Bring a tiny bit of his musical life to Adrian.
